The Ones Left Behind
by Rasiaa
Summary: They were the ones left to ask the questions that no one else dared to ask- Would they come back alive? They were the ones who slowly withered away when no one could come up with an answer. Companion piece: "Hated News".


They were the ones that were left behind.

They were the "average" ones- the ones who apparently couldn't handle whatever was being thrown at their closest friends left and right.

They were human- painfully, _painfully_ human, while their friends were something more- so much more- and there was nothing they could do to help because they couldn't _see_.

They were the ones who could only see enough to remember the incidents that everyone else apparently forget- so they could not speak to anyone.

They were the ones who were left at home to worry and fret over their friends while they were gone- _were they dead or alive? Were they critically hurt?_ – like some petty housewives seeing their husbands out to war.

They were constantly ignored whenever their friends returned- sometimes hurt, sometimes not- always left out of conversations that stopped as soon as they were in hearing range, like they couldn't hear what was being said.

They were Tatsuki, Keigo, Mizuiro, and Chizuru.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

She and Ichigo had been friends- best friends, no less- since they were four years old. It made no sense that he would abandon her for some freaks that didn't even know him in high school.

They had no idea that Ichigo sometimes sat in his room and just stared blankly at the wall for hours when he was alone, drowning in depression and self-loathing because of his mother's death.

Tatsuki suspected that after he became friends with that weird Rukia girl the list of things that he would torment himself with became longer.

They didn't know about his love for music and the arts- he was a beautiful singer and his being not half bad at dancing helped him fight better.

He only sang for Tatsuki, though.

When they were young, she and him would go up to the roof of one of their houses- whichever one they were staying at that night- and stare at the stars, talking and laughing quietly for hours with chips and soda. When she got tired- usually around one in the morning, sometimes twelve thirty- she would lay her head on his shoulder and he would sing her to sleep. They would wake up on the roof in the early hours of dawn and sneak back into the house and catch a few more hours of sleep after watching the sunrise.

She would bet her life that those people had no idea about that little secret. Hell, she doubted that his second-oldest friend, Chad, even knew about that.

She knew that they didn't know about the times Ichigo would just go down to the river where his mother died and simply wander around for hours, walking and sitting for a few minutes when he got tired and then walking some more. He usually did it during school hours so that his family wouldn't find out. She was the only one who knew, and that was because she had followed him one time.

They didn't know his dreams. They didn't know his desires. They didn't know who he really was. Sure, they knew he was a kick-ass fighter and they he had a short fuse and they knew about his protective personality and lack of self-worth.

They didn't know that he was a kick-ass fighter because he trained hard everyday since he was four years old, and after his mother died, he only trained himself harder. They didn't know that his instincts for battle developed because of intense bullying that often lead to fist-fights during the end of elementary school, middle school, and the beginning of high school.

They didn't know that he had a horrifying temper because he was usually hiding other emotions and anger was easiest to deal with. His irritation at most people didn't really help was that, either.

Maybe a few knew about his mother's death and subsequent insane _need_ to protect those around him. Not many, though.

His lack of self-worth stemmed from every failure he'd ever had- not protecting his mother, letting his sisters get hurt, failing a class, breaking a promise. Even thing that wasn't his fault, he blamed himself for. Tatsuki didn't know if he wanted to die or not, but she doubted it. She figured that he didn't particularly care either way, as long as his friends and family were safe. Sometimes, she wondered if him wanting to die would hurt more than him not caring.

…

"Ichigo?"

The orange-haired teen looked up from his textbook, staring at the dark haired girl that he knew almost as well as he knew himself. "Hey, Tatsuki," he greeted, looked down at the book again. He was behind on his English class, and needed to get his grade up to at least a C before the end of the semester or he was screwed.

Tatsuki sifted her weight from he right foot to her left, then switched it back. She stared at her oldest childhood friend, suddenly wondering where her best friend had gone. She wasn't blind; she could see his broken wrist, and the slight limp he bared while walking. The bandages around his torso were visible when he was sitting as he was- the sun shining right down onto his back and his shirt sticking to his skin with slight sweat. If she wasn't mistaken, she could also see spots of red leaking through the wrappings.

She sighed, but he didn't look up. Rolling her eyes, she kicked him on his uninjured leg, and watched with slight satisfaction as he yelped and the textbook fell into a heap onto the floor. Scowling, he stood and picked up the book, dusting the cover off and stuffing it unceremoniously into his bag. "What do you want, Tatsuki?" he asked, clearly pissed.

Used to such behavior and knowing that not all of it was for her, she didn't miss a beat. "I want you to come over to mine and spend the night. It's the weekend, and my parents are gone on a business trip, so we could do whatever we want."

She visibly saw his resolve to be mad waiver as he was walking away. His step hesitated for just a moment, and his grip tightened on his bag. He glanced back at her, but she remained firm, standing with her legs slightly apart and the grip on her bag tight. Her face was impassive, but they knew each other too well. Ichigo saw that she would be crushed if he declined. He had planned on heading over to the Visored warehouse and spending some time with Shinji and the others.

Perhaps, just this once, he could tell Shinji that he had plans that couldn't be made up for.

He blinked at her, and then nodded slightly. He took out his phone just as a smile broke across her face, lighting up her eyes and filling up her whole face. Fuck, when was the last time she had smiled like that? He used to make her smile that way all the time.

He opened his text box on his phone and typed a message to Shinji:

_Sorry, but some time with my friends from school is long overdue. Mind if I come over some other time?_

Tatsuki caught up with him just as he sent the message, and Shinji replied on their way out the door of the school:

_Sure. I let the others know, and they're cool with it. Rose, Kensei, Mashiro and I are heading back to the Society on Monday, and won't be back for two weeks or so. Paperwork can't always be passed off to Kira, Shuuhei, and Momo, as much as I would love that. You can come over while we're there, if you like, or otherwise we'll see you in a couple of weeks, yeah?_

He closed his phone after replying in the affirmative. "Who were you texting, Ichigo?" Tatsuki asked.

"You know that kid that used to be in our class but dropped out a few weeks ago, Hirako?"

She blinked at him, shocked. What was he texting him for? She hadn't even known that they were friends.

"Why were texting him?" she demanded, as they turned onto her street.

He shrugged. "I had planned on going over to his place for the weekend, but decided to go with you instead. Had to let him know."

She smiled inwardly. So he wasn't completely lost to a bunch of freaks.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

Chizuru, Keigo, and Mizuiro didn't know Ichigo even half as well as Tatsuki did, nor as long, but they were his friends all the same. They still worried.

They worried about the others, too, as did Tatsuki, but that poor girl just fretted mostly over Ichigo and Orihime.

Ichigo's reputation for fighting had proceeded to reach the ears of the new freshmen from other middle schools before he did, and, as a result, they had been reasonably weary of him at first (Except for Mizuiro, but he was always a bit off- or maybe he _was_ weary had just walked up to Ichigo and Chad the first day to piss of Keigo. It was not entirely impossible, since he was generally an asshole anyway). But, eventually, thanks to Mizuiro and Orihime, they had warmed up to the two delinquents, only to find out that they weren't delinquents really, and rumors were just that- rumors. Keigo had never been so glad, because he genuinely liked Ichigo, despite the latter's tendency to punch him in the face when he got too annoyed.

It stung that the orange-haired teen had suddenly befriended Orihime and that social outcast- Ishida? – in exchange for them. Were they not good enough? Why weren't they, if that was the case? What did Ichigo's new friends have that they didn't?

Mizuiro pondered the scenario as he walked beside Keigo, who rattled on about the same topic. He might have well been thinking out loud, for all that Mizuiro heard from the energetic teen. On his left, Chizuru was abnormally quiet, though that could have been because Orihime had officially been filed as 'missing' yesterday by her neighbor. Mizuiro was drawn from his thoughts when the cold air hit him, making him shiver. He glanced up from the floor to see their normal lunch hideout- the roof.

Ichigo wasn't there, like normal. Chad, he new additions Ishida, and, of course, Orihime, were conspicuously absent as well. It was like a knife to the gut. Where were they? What was going on?

"Oooooohhh!" Keigo cried dramatically, beginning to run in circles around the roof's perimeter. "Ichigo, Sado, Uryu and Orihime aren't here againnnnnn! Miiiizuirrrrroooo!"

Annoyed, Mizuiro demanded, "What do you want me to do about it? If Kurosaki and his new crew don't want to show up for school, that's their problem."

But Keigo appeared not to have heard him, still dramatically running around the roof, shedding fake tears and yelling. Chizuru covered her ears, looking entirely unhappy with the entire situation. She stormed up to Keigo and removed one hand from the side of her head to punch the wailing teen in the face. "What's the matter with you, you moron?" she cried, staring with her hands now on her hips at the fallen Keigo at her feet.

He stared up at her, no longer crying- in fact; it was like he had never cried, typical Keigo- but looking completely unaffected by the lesbian's hard punch. He was ignoring his bleeding nose. He let out a distressed noise and opened his mouth, "Ichigo and the others are gone!" he told her, and she rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, and he told me before they disappeared that I shouldn't worry about it that we couldn't handle it and that they had to do this entire thing on their own," a voice said. "And then we followed him to some weird shop where he and his friends disappeared into some sort of black hole and we were caught by the shopkeeper."

Mizuiro turned, his trademark smile blooming, "Hello, Tatsuki-kun!" She glanced at him, eyes narrow, but nodded to him anyway. "I remember that conversation," he informed her. "It was rather horrible. That aside, though, may I inquire as to why you're here?"

She rolled her eyes and stepped onto the roof. "I've no other friends to sit with," she told them gloomily. "Besides, anyone could hear Keigo screaming within a kilometer's radius. That gave me a large clue."

Keigo sank down under Tatsuki's piercing blue gaze, nodding when she told him that if he didn't clean his act up, he'd be held back because of social immaturity, if not also because of his grades.

The rest of the lunch period went smoothly- as smooth as possible with Keigo and Tatsuki and Chizuru in the same area without any sort of medium, anyway.

Still, Ichigo's absence was keenly felt, especially when they all went back to class and saw his empty desk.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

They were the ones left to ask the questions that no one else dared to ask- _Would they come back alive?_

They were the ones who slowly withered away when no one could come up with an answer.


End file.
